I am a gardener. I consider it a large part of my identity. But here I am again in January, in Minnesota, questioning my major life choices, specifically this career and climate in which I cannot actively “career” for 3 months out of the year. I dream of vacations I would take to places where green things still grow, if I possessed the discipline and cash flow to be able to save money for this purpose. Oh, and if pandemics weren’t a thing. Also, thanks to COVID, I am home supporting my 2 nd and 5 th graders’ distance learning instead of working part-time outside the home this winter. I much prefer this home arrangement, actually, but the pay is in hugs and smiles which don’t buy vacations, although they totally should because the world would be way cooler. So, I spend a lot of time reading. I read year-round, but full-time in winter, and perhaps out of resentment, pretty much zero of the books I read are about plants. I favor biographies, memoirs, and
Landscape Design with some Life thrown in.